The Road to Perdition
by Carys Langley
Summary: AU Mello x Near: Sometimes, they both dream about the roads not taken.


**Lacrimosa**

[AU, Mello x Near] Sometimes, they dream about the roads not taken.

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**A/N**: Mello/Near oneshot done in twenty minutes at 1 am as an exercise. This is my first foray into the Death Note fandom. Meant to be abstract and shouldn't make any sense o.0. Oh, and I don't own Death Note.

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The road to self preservation is a strenuous uphill climb. So sometimes, it's obviously a lot easier to take the devil's hand and go down the other road. The road that will eventually lead Mello down towards loneliness, madness, perdition. It is the road he has chosen, and the devil's grip is ever strong on his soul. But another devil dressed in white clutches tight to his other hand, and tugs him back when he gets too close. It's laughable because Mello doesn't even know why Near even bothers. Near Hates him, and he Hates Near. End of Story, period.

Old Man Whammy though, he sees something else. Mello is sure of it. Whammy knows that whenever he sends two most capable agents on a mission, it's always Mello's hands that come back bloody, but Near is always there to scrub them clean again. Mello also Hates the way Near holds a gun, as if he's afraid of it, and as if he respects it, because death would always come calling.

Death is also a constant shadow of Mello's, like Near, it follows him everywhere, but somehow, with Near there, he almost doesn't give half a damn.

In the evenings, Mello steps into their barely furnished penthouse and Near will have a tub of water waiting. The younger boy will take off Mello's clothes for him and bathe him. On some days, he will try to scrub Mello's back raw, but on some days, he will be reverent and gentle. Almost loving, but never loving. Near had promised him long ago that he would never be loving, because Mello will hate that, he'd never understand it.

But sometimes, Near can go completely insane and rub his face against Mello's soapy back. "I always wonder when you'll die, Mello."

"Soon, maybe." Mello always deadpans, "Obviously."

Tentative arms still wrap around his shoulders, and Mello is surprised by how strong Near actually is. Or maybe he's not strong at all; maybe Near is just weak, and doesn't want Mello to go.

"I don't want you to die."

"Why?"

Near is silent. But Mello lets him climb into the tub and admires the way the soaked fabric clings to Near's delicate frame, tightly, like how Near clings to Mello. Mello is too strong, too proud to cling to Near, but he stays still.

--

Mello doesn't like the fact that he and Near have to share the same room. They have separate beds, as far away from each other as possible, though at times, it's too close, like Near is breathing constantly down his neck. Because he is. Near has a bad sleepwalking habit and usually, more often than not, ends up on Mello's bed. Mello hates it, but tonight, Near is completely awake when he climbs into Mello's bed.

"Hey, Mello?"

"What?"

"It's cold, I'm going to sleep here."

Or, Mello shifts so that he faces the wall instead of Near, Near could have easily turned up the thermostat. But Near is azy, Near is weird, Near never does anything that Mello asks him to do, even if he does ask nicely. And, Near never bothers to answer any of Mello's questions.

"Mello, do you want to know why I don't want you to die?"

Curiosity killed cat. Mello still stared hard at the wall, "Why?"

"Because, I"m selfish. You can do without me, but I'm not sure that I can say the same for myself." Near says.

"So you're weak." Mello feels a prickle of pride.

"Yes, I suppose I am." If anything, Near sounds amused, "It's too much for me to ask you to feel sorry for me, isn't it?"

"You're _weak_." Mello sits up, and stares at the small bundled figure curled up beside him. "Why did you follow me?"

This time, Near sighs a resigned sigh, "Because I was weak, it's easier to be a shadow. Even if it is your shadow."

"I really, really hate you." Near passed Old Man Whammy's test with flying colors, while Mello's test scores were merely mediocre. Yet Near was contented to be his shadow. It didn't make any sense. "I wish you hadn't followed me."

"Me too."

Mello holds Near for perhaps the first time that night, and they both dream of the many happier roads not taken. And in the morning, the sun will not rise, and the sky will be gray. Mello will continue down his road to perdition, leaving blood in his wake, and Near, like a white fallen angel, will follow

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Fin

3-21-09

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End file.
